Broken Doll
by lrhaboggle
Summary: June sees herself when she looks into the face of one of the toys Lucifer has strewn about his Hellish office.


June gazed sadly at the broken doll in her hands. Lucifer stood behind her, a comforting red arm lying across her hunched shoulders. She touched his arm to thank him before moving to caress the broken doll's tattered gold tresses. The thing looked just like she did. Its hair was ratty, its face was scarred, what little clothing it wore was shredded and dirty, a few of the limbs were twisted out of place and, most hauntingly of all, were its emotionless eyes. Though she was lost in her grief, mourning her exile from Heaven, June felt a small twitch of pity for the tiny trinket, the forgotten toy. _I know how you feel,_ she told the broken doll mutely, continuing to stroke the toy with surprising gentleness. She was almost cradling it. A strange, protective, maternal feeling entered her broken heart then and the doll never left her side once after that.

An hour later, June was resting on a tiny old mattress. Lucifer had given her a new home, a tent just a walk away from his main office. It was far from pretty but June entered it willingly, relieved to have a place to call her own. What's more, since it belonged only to her, she was free to cry without anyone watching. The girl didn't even want to cry in front of Lucifer despite how gentle he'd been with her so far. So once Lucifer dropped her off at her tent, she bowed politely before sliding inside. Barely had she closed the tent flaps behind her when she felt the tears return to her eyes. She sat down on her new bed and though it was cold and there wasn't any blankets or pillows, she lied down and stared up at the tent's frumpy ceiling, memories overtaking her.

"I want to go home," she whimpered, turning her head to face the broken doll. Lucifer had allowed her to keep it after seeing how attached to it she was. She had the thing resting in her arms and she brought it up so she could look into its listless and unseeing eyes. "I want to go home!" she told the broken doll again, voice cracking. "I miss my family. And my friends. And my nice, warm bed. I just want to go home. I want to go back. I don't belong here. I should be here! I want to go home!" then she burst into tears, curling up with the doll squeezed tightly to her chest just like a little child. The doll stayed firmly pressed against her body for the rest of the night.

For the next month, June kept the doll at her side as a comfort object. The only time it might've left her arms was for those brief moments when she was performing a task that required two hands. Aside from that, the doll was either cradled in her arms or hugged to her chest or held limply at her side, dangling by one arm. It never left her possession simply because it was a friend. June saw herself whenever she faced that poor, abused doll and she couldn't bear to part with the one person who could identify her that didn't frighten her to tears. Yes, the other carnies, as benign as they were, still scared her pretty badly. The broken doll didn't. It was the one companion she had that she felt safe with. She wasn't going to let anyone take that away from her. But nobody ever made a move to so it was a moot point either way. As cruel as Hell was, there was a sense of apathy amongst the carnies such that if one of their ranks was doing something weird or new, it was totally ignored by all the others. Because of that, although some of the carnies did stare at June as she walked by, a broken doll in her arms, they never said a word and they never even thought to tease her just because they didn't care. It was so unlike Heaven. Heaven would've jumped down her throat if she did anything different. Heck, Heaven _had_ jumped down her throat. It was why she was here! But this place was so different.

But after about a month, June's confidence slowly began to heal and she found herself able to walk around the carnival without the doll in her arms at all times. She still kept the thing by her side every night but, during the day, she no longer carried it on her person. Instead, as her strength increased, the doll spent more and more time on her bed until it never left the dingy mattress at all.

 _I'm doing better now,_ June told it one night, hugging it close. _I think they're starting to like me… I mean, nobody gives me any trouble anyway, but a few of them invited me over for a drink. They asked me to play cards! I think they're starting to like me…_ the blond bit her scarred lip hopefully as she squeezed her comfort object just a little tighter. Did she dare hope? Had she found a new family? In time, June would learn that the answer was yes. The next day was the last day June spent carrying her broken doll with her.

Even though June no longer carried her doll around, though, she still kept the thing close. It stayed with her for all her years in Hell and saw her transformation from a shy and grieving child to a fierce, commanding and merciless woman renamed Painted Doll, in honor of her new appearance. The broken doll watched the rise of the painted doll and it watched as its mother's heart became as cold and hard in her skin as the years rolled on. With every new sinner, Doll's brutality increased until all that remained of her was a monster. The amount of love in her heart had decreased sharply, but there was still just a little bit left and it was reserved for a very select few people. Two of those people were the broken doll and Scorpion, Doll's lover.

One night, following Lucifer's most recent show where he revealed his grand plan to overthrow Heaven, Scorpion was in Doll's tent.

"You did wonderful, Doll," he said as he entered, referring to her own performance that had occurred right before Lucifer's reveal. Doll nodded her thanks, having since taken a vow of silence. "Are you ready for war?" he asked. Doll nodded again, her warm smile turning into a bloodthirsty one. The hype of Lucifer's earlier reveal still hadn't totally warn off and Doll, among the others, could still hear the war cries and it made her blood boil in a wonderful way. She could see from the way Scorpion's dark eyes were shining that he felt the same way, the hype of war still very much in his veins. In fact, his leg was shaking and he was switching his trademark knife open and shut without even realizing it.

Doll tilted her head in amusement before patting her mattress, inviting him to take a seat. He acquiesced, very used to this bed. As he sat down, he noticed something new this time. A doll. It was so old and ugly he had almost thought it was just some random chunk of wood that was part of the bed. Once he was sitting on the mattress, however, he got a closer look at the child's toy and could clearly see a few sprigs of golden hair that framed a face splattered in blood, dirt and paint. Behind all of the muck, the young man thought he could see a pair of blue eyes. The little doll wore a dress made of what looked like spare fabric from one of Doll's own dresses.

"So, who is this?" the man asked as he gestured to the broken doll. He wanted to pick it up but it looked so fragile that he was worried a mere touch would cause a limb to fall off. Already, it looked like one of the arms had been reattached in the past. When Doll saw what Scorpion was looking at, something dark and sad flickered in her eyes before she explained through pantomime. She didn't feel like singing again. She didn't mind telling Scorpion her story, though, because she knew Scorpion would take her seriously. For that, she felt confident enough to tell him about the broken doll. Now, she made no effort to hide the doll from her fellow carnies, but she never actively told anybody about it either and since she spent most her time alone, only a few knew about it. In addition, because she hadn't carried the broken doll with her in quite a long time, those who used to see her with it in her arms had long since forgotten about that.

Despite Doll being dead silent as she told her story, Scorpion hardly even breathed as it continued. Then at last, once she made her final gesture, Scorpion whistled lowly. He had heard bits and pieces of Doll's story but because he hadn't been present upon her fall and hadn't really become her friend for awhile after, he didn't fully understand what all the poor girl had been through. He especially hadn't known that she had a special doll she still cuddled with every night. He knew better than to underestimate Doll for carrying around a child's plaything, though, and didn't think that such a behavior made her weak in anyway. On the contrary, Doll was pretty dang tough. It was part of the reason Scorpion found her so attractive. She was such a refreshing change from the usual ladies Scorpion found himself with.

Doll handed Scorpion the little toy after she finished her story and, knowing that he now had permission to look at it, he took the time to study every inch of it. He scrutinized the thing a good few minutes before returning it to its owner. Doll took it back gratefully, sitting down beside Scorpion and cradling the thing in her arms just like olden times. Doll ran her fingers through the toy's hair and smiled a little. Scorpion couldn't help but be somewhat surprised by that just because Doll looked so maternal, tender and loving as she rocked the broken doll in her arms. It was just such a contrary action to the way Doll usually behaved. It was actually kind of cute, though Scorpion knew Doll would punch him if said that.

For a moment, the pair sat side by side in a contended silence, Doll tending to the doll while Scorpion watched. At last, though, Scorpion tried to strike up another conversation and asked his lover a question.

"What's her name?" he asked. "It'll be confusing with two dolls around here now!" he added with a small grin. The question had been genuine and Doll knew it but she couldn't help but feel a little disinclined to answer. She turned her head further away from Scorpion to indicate that she wasn't going to answer and he got the message loud and clear. This did peak his curiosity to greater heights but he had the sense not to push her. If she didn't want to reply, he wouldn't be able to get an answer out of her for anything. He would have to let it go. So, with some reluctance, he fell back into their shared peaceful silence.

Awhile later, though, Scorpion headed out. After giving Doll a goodnight kiss, and then blowing a kiss to the toy still resting in her arms, he made his way out of her tent and back to his own. The next few days were going to be busy if Lucifer's plan was any indication of anything, he would need the rest. But the moment he had closed Doll's tent back up, leaving her alone again, she began to move. She set the broken doll down and heaved a sigh, something akin to real sorrow creeping into her expression. It was a change from the usual scorn her face bore. But that was because, now that she was entirely alone, she felt safe enough to express the things she was really feeling and, right now, that feeling was a bit of embarrassment and a bit of sadness. The reason she had denied Scorpion the simple knowledge of what her broken doll was named was because she didn't think she could bear to tell him. _How?_ Doll asked herself. _How can I tell him that I named her June?_

 **AN: If you watch "After the Fall", there's a very brief shot of June holding a toy doll and, from that one little blink-and-you'll-miss-it scene, I spawned this whole fic and a headcanon that Doll kept that little doll for years after she first arrived in Hell. It's just that, if you do pause the movie right at that moment, June is caressing the doll and looking sadly down at it. I couldn't help but imagine that she would come to love the thing in a kind of motherly way because she viewed it as a mini-me thing.**


End file.
